This old, old tree
looks weird to me.
Its bark is mossy,
its lichen glossy.
If I had time
I could climb
to its top
and there I’d stop —
under the sky,
up so high.

Photo by Ginette Pestana
This old, old tree
looks weird to me.
Its bark is mossy,
its lichen glossy.
If I had time
I could climb
to its top
and there I’d stop —
under the sky,
up so high.

Photo by Ginette Pestana
Pretty cities love their trees.
We know they help prevent disease
by trapping poisons found in air
from fumy cars that drive round there.
Green-leaved cities cool things down.
Those leafy air-cons make no sound
evaporating water while
providing shady streets with style.
Tree-lined cities seem to manage
heavy rain and water drainage.
Tree roots tend to drink-up well-as
leafy crowns form umbrellas.
Pretty cities need their trees.
From wind-chimed leaves and shadowed ease
to joys of birdsong’s many keys.
So cities, please don’t lose your trees.
Celia said: In leafy suburbs and shady streets, gentle giant trees do more than simply add a splash of green to a city’s stony setting. I’m grateful for those city trees.
All That Is Left
Why did the tree die?
Did it reach a grand old age?
Or did sharp axe cuts
Make its sap
Bleed down the bark
Onto the dry earth?
Years later it still stands
Defiant
Its gnarled branches
Clawing at heaven.